


What a Prize

by hazellepotter



Series: Marked [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Denial of Feelings, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Love, Romance, bond, soul-mate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: She ran away from him before he could collect himself. She didn’t want to talk about it; he didn’t want to talk about it. Pansy Parkinson was Harry Potter’s soul-mate, and just a few hours before, she had attempted to turn him over to Voldemort.





	What a Prize

Pansy did not believe in the theory that everyone had a soul-mate. Her mother told her for years that it was a fallacy, a fake and hopeless dream that romantics in the wizarding world created to feel better about themselves and their pathetic lives. Pansy had never met any adults in her life that were marked, but being marked wasn’t something you shared. It was burned into your skin, right over your heart. It happened once you physically touched the one you were supposed to be with. Most people never saw someone’s heart, it was private, _sacred._

Even though Pansy did not believe in this anomaly, she still took time to research it throughout the years.  She read that once you touched the one, the mark would burn into your skin and the pain was excruciating. Over the years, it would blacken with age and heal. It would never leave your skin, it would be a part of who you were forever. It was supposed to symbolize that true love never dies, but Pansy thought it sounded more like a _curse_ than a blessing. To be permanently marked meant you no longer had independence, and Pansy only wanted to take care of herself.

The reason being marked was still considered a theory throughout the wizarding world was because most people did not find their soul mate, and if they did, they were considered the lucky ones. Skeptical witches and wizards, like Pansy’s mother, believed that individuals saying they were marked just got tattoos to convince the world that they were with their soul mate and to “prove” the theory. Pansy wished she wasn’t skeptical like her mother deep down, but she knew it was the best way to keep herself safe. _Being safe was better than being vulnerable, and it helped her avoid feeling too much useless hope._

 

* * *

 

It was after the final battle. Students, professors, and strangers were approaching Harry to thank him for all the hard-work he put in to defeat Voldemort. He was grateful that they were grateful, but he needed to get away. Luna agreed to create a diversion, so he slipped out of the Great Hall unnoticed and went down by Hogwarts Lake.

The morning sunrise hit his face as he sat down on the hard ground. He closed his eyes and tried to forget all the loss and suffering he had just seen in the last few hours. The images wouldn’t leave his mind. His eyes shot open, and he noticed his fingers were digging into the grass. He pulled his fingers out slowly and examined the dirt under his nails, when suddenly he was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

He looked up to see Pansy Parkinson staring down at him. Her short black hair was tucked behind her ears, and her blue-green eyes looked hesitant. _Afraid._ He got up immediately to face her. He knew she didn’t look like she wanted to fight, but Harry was still jumpy from earlier events.

“What are you doing here? What do you want?”

He watched her swallow and realized she had a cut on her throat. It looked like someone attempted to slice it open. Goosebumps rose on his arms as he remembered what Hermione went through at Malfoy Manor before Draco jumped in to protect her. He wondered who on their side would have done that to Pansy.

“I-I wanted to apologize,” she said bluntly, “I was a bitch.”

For some reason, her words _angered_ him. His hand turned into a fist around his wand, and he immediately pointed it toward her and asked, “What are you playing at?”

He was surprised when she didn’t raise her wand to defend herself. In all honesty, her fearful look now turned into _boredom._

“You don’t need to pull the golden boy act on me, Potter. I know you aren’t going to hex me. Look, I came to apologize for trying to hand you over. It was wrong of me, I was just trying to protect those I care about.”

“Funny,” Harry commented, “I didn’t know you loved anyone but _yourself._ ”

He wanted his words to hurt her. The amount of malice he still felt in his heart after knowing Voldemort was gone forever scared him in that moment, but he pushed it aside.

His comment seemed to get to her, and her bored expression immediately fell from her face. She quickly charged toward him and looked him right in the eye. She was seething, and they were basically nose to nose. That’s when he realized how tall she was.

“You don’t know anything about me, Potter,” she spat, “You act like you know everything. Reality check: _just because you’re the chosen one, it doesn’t mean you know it all._ ”

Harry was surprised what he felt next, _he felt bad for her._   He had no idea why. Maybe it was the tremble in her voice, or maybe it was the ferocity in her eyes, but it seemed familiar. He knew what she was feeling, and he couldn’t ignore it.

She gave him one last glare and turned around to walk away, but Harry stopped her by grabbing her upper-arm. _What happened next was unbearable._

The skin over his heart was burning, and he felt as though someone was cutting through him with a cursed knife. He tried not to make it obvious, but that’s when he noticed she was sweating profusely. Pansy was clutching her heart just as he was.

The pain subsided after a few moments, and all they could do was stare at each other. They knew what this meant, and they didn’t want it to be true. They couldn’t believe it was true.

Harry expected her to say something, anything, because he couldn’t speak. It was as though his throat was sandpaper, and all he could feel was his pulse under his new mark. He swore he could feel her pulse, too. But rather than say a word, she gave him a look of fear. Her beautiful eyes were wide open, and she was as speechless as he was.

She ran away from him before he could collect himself. She didn’t want to talk about it; he didn’t want to talk about it. Pansy Parkinson was Harry Potter’s soul-mate, and just a few hours before, she had attempted to turn him over to Voldemort.

 

* * *

 

Days went by before anyone asked Harry what was wrong. He had to admit, getting marked by his soul-mate came at a convenient time for a cover-up story. Everyone assumed he was silent and wanted to be alone because of everything he had recently lost; they never would have guessed that his odd behavior was because Pansy Parkinson was his one true love.

It was Hermione that noticed first. They were sitting at the kitchen table at the Burrow. All the Weasleys were out arranging things for Fred’s funeral service, and Hermione offered to stay behind with Harry. They knew he wasn’t up to it - but none of them really were.

“What’s the matter, Harry? And don’t tell me it’s because of everything we have been through,” she said softly, “I know the difference with your moods. Something has happened you’re not telling me.”

He looked up from his hands to see Hermione’s concerned expression. When he didn’t answer her, she reached over and placed her hand on top of his.

“You don’t have to tell me right now. I can’t imagine everything you’re going through, but just know I’m here.”

Harry considered staying mute for just a little while longer, but he did not want to make Hermione worry anymore. He noticed the bags under her eyes and how she would tremble every time the battle was mentioned. She was suffering, too.

“When did it happen?” he asked, “When did you and Draco get your marks?”

He watched her swallow and blink a few times.

“How did you-?”

But before she could finish her statement, he explained, “I’ve known ever since the Manor when he saved your life. We never really had any time to question why he did that with everything going on, but I knew. I saw the fire in his eyes as he saw you there helpless with Bellatrix’s knife in your arm. I’m not as daft as you think.”

Her grip on Harry’s hand tightened, but she still didn’t let go.

“I was marked in third year,” she confessed, “After I slapped him for mocking Hagrid about Buckbeak.”

Harry remembered now. He remembered Hermione buckling over as they turned the corner and clutching her body. She claimed it was period cramps, which made him avoid asking anymore questions. Ron was the only one to push, but she didn't budge and insisted she was fine. 

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“ _Why do you think?_ Do you really think you or Ron would have been accepting at the time that Draco Malfoy is my soul-mate?”

Harry sighed and released his hands from her grip. He got up to pace around the kitchen table.

“Who marked you Harry?” she asked him carefully, “During the battle.”

He rubbed his hands through his hair and looked down at his feet.

“It wasn’t during the battle,” he whispered, “It was after.”

“Who was it? You can tell me.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, _“It was Pansy Parkinson. Pansy Parkinson is my one true love.”_

 

* * *

 

Pansy apparated as quickly as she could once she ran off the Hogwarts grounds. She was in disbelief. _This couldn’t be happening._

Her mother was wrong, _she was wrong._ Part of her felt relief, but another part of her felt fear.

_How could The Boy Who Lived be her soul-mate? What would her friends say? What was Harry going to do?_

She sat down outside Greengrass Manor. It had become her home away from Hogwarts after her mother was killed in a raid earlier that year. _It was the only place she felt safe._ She wished she hadn’t gone back to Hogwarts, but she wanted to keep an eye on Blaise.

She was surprised when she saw that Daphne was already outside retrieving a letter from her owl. They locked eyes instantly, and Daphne ran over to her.

Daphne’s arms were around Pansy as soon as she reached her. Pansy hugged her back tightly and shut her eyes to try and make the fear go away. _It wouldn’t leave._

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” Daphne told her, “I was so worried. We heard the battle started at Hogwarts. I knew you were still there completing the term. I told my mother I was going to go there and make sure you got out safe, but she wouldn’t let me leave. She told me this was the reason she wouldn’t let me attend my last year at Hogwarts in the first place, and that if I went, they would question father’s true allegiance to Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

They pulled away from each other, and they sat down on the bench Pansy was occupying before. Daphne placed her hand on Pansy’s upper arm for comfort, and she had expected her to say something by now.

“What is it, Pans? Is Blaise-?”

“He’s fine,” Pansy reassured her, “It’s nothing like that, even Draco's okay. He owled me before the battle. He wasn't even there. He's in hiding.”

“Theo?”

“I-I didn’t see him.”

They were silent for a few moments, until Daphne dropped her hand from Pansy’s arm.

“Then what is it?”

Pansy took a deep breath and buried her face in her hands.

“You haven’t been marked, have you?” she asked Daphne hesitantly.

“Marked? Are you joking?” Daphne asked, “You know that’s just an old wives tale. _Being marked isn’t real._ If it were, our parents would be marked.”

Pansy nodded, “Of course, I mean. I thought that, too.”

“What are you saying, Pansy?”

Pansy took a deep breath, and her hands shook as she pulled down her blouse slightly to reveal the mark over her heart. It was fresh and still bleeding, and she swore she could still feel Potter’s unstable heartbeat against hers.

 _It was the shape of a lightning bolt_ , and she almost wanted to chuckle at how ridiculous her mark had to be to represent the chosen one, but she was taken aback by the look on Daphne’s face.

Rather than horror, Daphne’s face was full of _hope._

“You have been marked,” she whispered, “It’s true. True love is real.”

Pansy lifted her shirt back up and then snidely added, “Apparently, if you think there is such thing as true love with Harry Potter.”

She expected Daphne to joke along with her, but she didn’t. Her face stayed serious.

“Did you talk about it with him? What did he say? What’s your plan?”

Pansy felt uncomfortable and shifted on the bench so she wasn’t directly facing Daphne.

“We didn’t talk. There is nothing to talk about. I’m going to ignore it, and I suspect he will, too.”

Pansy could tell Daphne wanted to protest, but she stayed silent.

 

* * *

 

Months passed before they saw each other again. Harry knew it would be inevitable. Now that Draco and Hermione had embraced their marked status, they were around the same people. It was going to happen whether they liked it or not.

Harry tried as long as he could to avoid going anywhere with Hermione and Draco or to any event where Draco’s friends would be present, but Hermione eventually blew up and told him he couldn’t avoid the truth. He wanted to reply that she had avoided her truth for _four years_ , but he thought better of it. He didn’t feel like dealing with Hermione's wrath. Draco even seemed to learn that quickly. 

Hermione and Draco decided to host a party at their new flat. It was a formal affair, and they were all required to wear dress robes and gowns. Harry knew this was more of Draco’s doing, but he didn’t argue. And if Ron was attending, he knew he had to.

“Come on, mate. You can’t make me go alone. This might be my chance to get marked,” he said hopefully, “And besides, you need to face Parkinson sooner or later.”

He knew Ron was right; he knew Hermione was right, too. It was just hard to face the truth.

Ron and Harry apparated to Hermione and Draco’s front doorstep. They knocked twice, and Hermione came and opened the door. She was delighted to see them, and she gave them both a hug and a kiss on the cheek as they entered.

“I’m so glad you came,” she told them, “I was worried you wouldn’t.”

She was specifically looking at Harry as she said this, but Harry avoided eye contact with her to make sure he didn't give her any satisfaction that she had persuaded him to come.

Draco approached them next and shook their hands. Harry never thought he could be friends with Draco Malfoy, but it was hard not to like him with Hermione’s influence. He was now a changed man, and Harry respected him for it.

“So Potter,” Draco said nonchalantly, “Parkinson shall be here any moment.”

“Nice try, Malfoy.”

“I’m more telling you this to warn you. You need to prepare yourself when dealing with Pansy. I'm not saying you have face it, though, I have to say, it is better once you do.”

Harry took a deep breath as Draco slapped him on the back before returning to Hermione. He then spotted Ginny across the room, and she waved him over.

“I hate these damn things,” Ginny complained once he got to her, “Can you believe Hermione forced me to wear _heels?_ ”

Harry couldn’t help but smirk as he looked down at Ginny’s feet. He knew how much she hated them.

“Why don’t you take them off?” he teased, “I doubt Draco or Hermione would actually mind.”

She slapped his shoulder, “I don’t bloody think so, Harry.”

Multiple people passed them at the party to greet each other, including Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. He realized how out of place he felt at the party. It was full of people with status and prestige. Sure, _he was the chosen one._ But after all these years, he still didn't know how to handle it with grace like everyone else seemed to be able to. 

Harry turned his attention to the front door for a few moments. He would be lying if he said he wasn't waiting anxiously for Pansy, but when he looked back towards Ginny, he noticed she was looking ill compared to the last time he had talked to her.

“Gin, are you alright?” he asked her seriously. Her demeanor shifted so fast, something was wrong.

She blinked a few times, but then she stood up a little straighter.

“ _I-I’m fine._ I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

Before Harry could ask her anymore questions, Ginny was walking quickly out of sight. He would have followed her, but he was soon distracted by the feeling of an electric pull towards the front door.

His mark seemed to vibrate, and he could suddenly feel it pulsing again. He glanced down his shirt to see that his Pansy flower was now darkening.  He realized this must be part of the process every time soul-mates are around each other.

He gulped when he caught sight of her.

She was wearing a floor length emerald green dress, and her hair was longer compared to when he had seen her last. It was pulled up, and it allowed him to see her face clearly for what seemed like the first time.

She had high cheekbones, and her nose was slightly turned up. He used to make fun of her for it, but he realized that he was wrong before. She was beautiful, he was just too blind to see it. _Maybe he had always been afraid._

It was as though she could feel him staring at her, because she looked up as soon as that thought entered his mind. Her blue-green eyes were startlingly fierce, and it made him gulp.

He figured she would avoid him, but she was coming directly towards him. He had the overwhelming urge to run, but his feet were planted to the ground.

She grabbed a champagne flute from a waiter as she passed by, and she chugged it down before reaching him.

“This champagne is shit,” she commented once she approached him, “I figured Draco would have better taste, but it’s probably Granger’s influence.”

Harry’s warm and fuzzy feelings towards her quickly turned to ice once again.

“Wow Parkinson,” Harry said sarcastically, “It’s _wonderful_ to see you again, and that’s a great conversation starter, you talking shit about my best friend and all. That won’t get you in my pants, I'm sorry to say.”

He watched her turn slightly pink in his peripheral vision, but she scoffed and glared at him.

“Whatever, Potter,” she replied, “I hate this as much as you do. I have no idea how the universe thinks we are compatible, but here we are.”

“Maybe the universe is playing a joke on us,” he offered, “I think that is a reasonable explanation.”

“Well, your life has always been a huge joke, I suppose,” she agreed, “So I do think it’s reasonable.”

It was Harry’s turn to glare, and she smirked at that.

She grabbed another champagne flute as the waiter passed them again and chugged it down in one gulp.

“You should really slow down,” Harry told her, “You could get sick.”

“Why do you care? I can handle my alcohol. I have strong tolerance, especially for things that make me sick.”

Her words sunk in, and Harry was left wondering why he _cared_ as she walked away from him and back towards Daphne Greengrass. 

 

* * *

 

If anyone had told Pansy that one of her best friends would be marrying Hermione Granger seven years ago, she would have told them sarcastically that that was a big fat _joke._ But now here she was, sitting on Draco’s side of the _muggle_ church for wedding guests. She sat next to Daphne and played with the trim of her purple satin dress.

“Are you nervous?” Daphne asked her.

“For Draco, _oh yes._ I have no idea how he will handle a woman like Granger. I hate to admit that she is a strong woman, much like us.”

“No, not for Draco,” Daphne hissed, clearly annoyed, “Are you nervous about seeing Harry again?”

“You mean Potter?”

“You better get used to calling him by his first name. You will love him one day, if you don’t already.”

_“That’s doubtful.”_

Daphne rolled her eyes and Pansy ignored her.

The wedding march started to sound, and everyone stood to watch Hermione enter.

She looked gorgeous, Pansy had to give her that. She assumed Draco helped her pick out the dress, but as soon as she glanced over to see Draco’s reaction, he looked just as amazed and shocked as she was. Pansy couldn’t help but smile slightly to herself as she watched Draco’s happiness grow. She also witnessed Blaise and Ginny smirking at each other from across the altar. She still couldn’t believe they were recently marked to be together. _What was going on with all these Slytherin and Gryffindor relationships?_ That’s what she wanted to know.

But suddenly, she was distracted from the happiness around her and felt her mark pulsing again. She glanced down and noticed that her lightning bolt was darkening, and she swallowed roughly.

She glanced up again to see Harry staring at her, and his look was intense. It gave her goosebumps, but seeing him in a suit made her realize how handsome he was and how much she _wanted_ him.

She tried to push that feeling aside for the rest of the ceremony, but she could feel his eyes on her the whole time.

Pansy tried her best to avoid him at the reception. She complained to Daphne in hushed whispers that there was no way in hell she was giving in, but then a slow song came on, and she watched as Potter made his way over to her.

“Hide me!” Pansy hissed to Daphne. She attempted to get under the table, but Harry was already in front of her before she could try anything else. She considered apparating on the spot, but she realized she already looked pathetic enough.

“Do you _-uh_ , want to dance, Parkinson?”

Pansy couldn’t help but smirk at how far Potter was from being an  _eloquent speaker,_  and she even considered mocking him for it. But then she saw the nervous look in his eye, and her heart seemed to falter some.

“Sure, Potter,” she relented, “Let’s see what your dancing abilities are. I doubt they’re great.”

She watched as he visibly relaxed. He took her hand, and Pansy’s whole body tingled. She could tell Harry felt it too as she watched his Adam’s apple bob, but he didn’t say anything.

Once they were on the dance floor, he pulled her close, and she swore she was going to burst. Every nerve in her body was igniting, and all she wanted to do was get _closer_ to him. She didn't know if that was even possible. She knew this wasn’t supposed to be right, but it had to be. _She felt it._

She could feel his pulse against hers, and she closed her eyes. Before she knew it, a tear was slipping from her eye. She tried to hide it quickly, but he noticed.

 _“I-I’m afraid,”_ Pansy told him quietly, “I can feel your heart.”

Harry leaned forward slightly so his lips were right next to her ear, _“I can feel yours, too.”_

Pansy shuddered at his words, and she quickly realized they were the only ones still slow dancing on the dance floor. Everyone else had picked up speed. Pansy blinked a few times as she pulled away from him. Harry had a look of hunger in his eyes, and she felt like she couldn’t look away. But then she felt it tugging at her gut again. _Fear._

She dropped her hands from his body and started backing away slowly while shaking her head.

“I-I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

Pansy watched as he tried to stop her from running, but she had already apparated before he could reach out to her.

 

* * *

 

Harry felt it at the wedding. He felt how he could love her and how she was _the one_. He felt it in his very veins, and it was the strongest sensation he had ever experienced.

But she was still avoiding him. She did not return his owls, and he had not seen her since the wedding. Harry felt helpless, until he felt _rage._

_How could she keep running from him when she knew the truth? He was facing it, why wasn’t she? Why couldn’t she give in and let him win?_

He had heard she got a new flat on Diagon Alley, so he apparated there as soon as the thought occurred to him.

He reached her door, and he was tempted to just apparate in, but he wasn’t _that_ impolite. He knocked on the door multiple times impatiently.

He could hear her groaning in the house as she approached the door.

“Daphne!” she complained, “How many times do I have to tell you I am not going to leave this flat?”

She opened the door, and he watched as a surprised expression spread across her face.

Pansy stood still as she stared at him, and Harry watched as many emotions ran through her eyes.

_Shock. Confusion. Hate. Love. Fear._

Harry went to her house so she would say something, _anything._  He came so he could _win._ But he quickly realized looking into her eyes that he didn’t want her to say anything. _He didn’t need her to say anything._ He already knew what she was feeling. He could feel her pulse against his.

Without thinking about it, he rushed forward and grabbed her face in his hands. He pressed his lips roughly against hers, and he felt her immediately melt against him. Every nerve and fiber of his being was on fire, and he didn’t want it to extinguish.

They finally pulled away after what seemed like hours, and Pansy was panting. Harry pressed their foreheads together, and he watched as Pansy closed her eyes.

“I don’t want to fight it anymore,” he admitted, _“I can’t fight it anymore.”_

He expected her to pull away from him again and try to deny everything they felt, but she surprised him by opening her eyes and looking into his with the same fierce expression she wore all those months ago.

 _“Then don’t,”_ she challenged.

And for the first time, Harry was okay losing to Pansy Parkinson, because it meant he was winning the biggest prize of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you are all enjoying this series! I will be posting one for Blaise and Ginny next, and I will try to get it done as soon as possible! I really appreciate all the support. x


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